


What's Love Got To Do With It?

by DJH1950



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9565232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJH1950/pseuds/DJH1950
Summary: I stole title from Tina Turner. Angst with a hopeful ending.





	1. Chapter 1

"Damnit Root! I told you I won't be there. Don't make a big deal of the day. I'm not."

"But Sameen it's been a year to the day that we met."

"Let's see Root. As I recall you tased me, zip-tied me and threatened to burn me with an iron. Why in the hell would I want to celebrate that?"

"But Sam, look how far we've come."

“OK, well... you constantly break into my apartment, you invite yourself where you're not invited and you generally do everything you can to annoy me whenever we're in the same room.

"If we've come a long way, I don't think I want to go much further." Shaw turned on her heel and left the subway. Root's smile remained, but her eyes, to anyone who really knew her, showed her disappointment, if not her hurt.

Just before Shaw disappeared up the stairs, Root called out, "I'm planning dinner for 7:00, steak's on the menu."

Shaw slowed, almost hesitated, then continued climbing. "Feed my share to Bear." She disappeared into the darkness.

Root's smile faltered briefly, then returned tinged with sadness. "I wonder when she's going to realize we're perfect for each other." Reese and Finch looked on without comment. Suddenly, her eyes got that faraway look the two men recognized. Root tilted her head momentarily as the smile returned. Standing, she headed up the same stairs Shaw had climbed only moments before.

"Gotta go guys, She needs an errand. Don't wait up- I'll see you when I see you."

And she was gone, again, doing the Machine's bidding.

....

The smells wafted through Root's apartment as twice-baked potatoes, garlic bread and baked asparagus cooked in the oven. Two hunks of meat rested on the carving board next to the oven. One filet was at least three times the size of the other.

Root had eaten enough times with Shaw to consider her voracious appetite when shopping. After running an errand for the Machine (which involved stopping an irrelevant number’s kidnapping) she stopped at her favorite market on her way home.

Two filets, sides, a bottle of Shaw’s favorite Scotch and a bottle of wine for herself filled two shopping bags she carried through the door. The apartment was approximately 800 square feet with a large kitchen and living room. The only bedroom was actually a master suite with full bath and walk-in closet.

Root had tastefully and artfully bridged the area where the kitchen and living room came together with an expanding oak table which, when necessary could be expanded to seat six comfortably, Tonight, there were only two places set, with candles burning in the center of the table. The Scotch and wine sat on the counter and only the filets remained to be cooked as Root awaited Shaw’s arrival. She didn’t want to overcook the steak on the first night she cooked for Sameen,

Forty five minutes earlier, she had texted Shaw a short message. _Dinner cooking, I’ll hold the main course ’til you arrive._ Adding a smiley face emoticon at the end, she waited. When she received no response a slight frown appeared.

_She’s coming._

….

7:00 came and went. At 7:45 Root poured her first glass of wine. At 8:30, halfway through her third glass, she took the food out of the oven to cool and placed the filets back in the fridge. By 9:00 with her wine glass empty for the fourth time, she slowly put the potatoes, bread and asparagus in containers and stored them away.

She blinked away tears as she considered possible reasons for Shaw’s not even responding to the text, much less giving her a call to let her know…. know what? The part of her mind that told her Shaw was unavoidably detained was overridden by Root’s common sense.

Her rational mind told her that she wasn’t coming for the simple reason that she really didn’t care and that no matter how much Root cared, she couldn’t care enough for both of them. Thinking maybe she should just go to bed, she made another in a string of mistakes that marked the day as one of her worst.

She asked the Machine, “Where is Shaw?” The answer, echoed in her head and sent her running to the bathroom where the four glasses of wine were the only thing she had to regurgitate. The rest of her pain remained festering in the pit of her stomach and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get it out.

After several minutes of dry heaving and sobbing, Root regained enough control to clean herself up. She stayed ten minutes longer in the bathroom as she brushed away the sour taste in her mouth, then applied some make up and lipstick.

Then, blowing out the candles, she headed out into the New York night.


	2. Chapter 2

Sameen Shaw was a loner. She was incapable (at least she had told herself so many times she had come to believe it) of feeling any real emotional attachment to any other human. She had neither the time nor the inclination to let anyone in.

Then Root came along and things got complicated. At first she was just annoying. Shaw thrived on dealing with annoying. Whenever someone got too close, she could shut them down with a glance, at worst with a sarcastic comment. It never failed to work- anyone who got close, or tried to get close would invariably be done once _Shaw_ decided it was time for them to leave.

Then Root came along and things got complicated. Shaw went into shutdown mode almost from the jump with Root and all it did was encourage her. It was almost as if Root thrived on Shaw’s rejection and used it as fuel to come at her even stronger. So Shaw decided to experiment with Root and after one encounter knew something was different. She had a hard and fast rule as far as physical relationships went- the ‘Three Night Rule’. After three nights with anyone it was over.

Then Root came along and things got complicated. After the third night with Root, Shaw watched her leave Shaw’s apartment with something gnawing at her that she’d never encountered ( _felt?_ ) before. She didn’t know what was going on but decided to up her game as far as sarcasm and rejection was concerned.

Root took it in stride and it never seemed to phase her. The worse Shaw treated Root, the more Root responded as if it were a game that she, Root was destined to win. She deflected Shaw’s sarcasm, ignored her rejections and continued to feed whatever was gnawing inside Shaw.

Today’s encounter was typical but it triggered a response from Shaw that was atypical. As she left the subway Shaw was determined that this had to stop- she wanted, no she needed to stop the troubling sensations that disturbed much of her waking hours and left her sleepless more and more. Root’s invasion of Shaw’s consciousness bothered her like nothing since she lost her father over 20 years ago.

She wandered aimlessly around the city, eventually ending up in the park. She saw a kids’ playground and went over to sit and watch several young children playing on a carousel and when they had left she got on it and rode in circles for fifteen minutes or so. Leaving the park, she had a sensation of being followed, but dismissed it as dizziness from the roundabout.

She continued to walk aimlessly, the sensation of being followed continued. Fearing Root was tailing her, she headed toward one of the crowded markets teeming with people of all ages as the afternoon headed toward evening. She slipped into a shop and silently watched… a familiar figure came into view. Eyes searching the crowd, looking for someone or something, Shaw knew her senses were dead on- as usual.

_Tomas!_

She slipped back into the crowd and followed him for a couple blocks as he attempted to reacquire his target. Finally, tiring of the game, Shaw walked right up on him and grabbed his arm.

“Lose something?”

Tomas spun around, ready to attack, then as he realized he’d been made, he smiled his old, charming smile.

“Shaw, I knew it was you.”

“Well, your tailing skills suck- I made you in the park. If I wasn’t working on something I would have shut you down a lot sooner.” _Keep telling yourself that Shaw, you might believe it._ Shaw looked Tomas up and down. _He’s still hot, maybe even hotter than last time._

“So what are you up to, Shaw? I haven’t seen or heard from you since you stood me up on the plane ride to Barcelona.”

“I didn’t stand you up, I told you I wasn’t coming.”

“And I told you you wanted to come and I’d have your ticket waiting. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was that the seat next to me was empty on that flight. And you didn’t answer the question, what are you up to?”

“A little of this, a little of that. I keep busy.”

“Listen, I’m only in town for a few days, why don’t you have a drink with me tonight. We’ll go back to the club where we got acquainted and get reacquainted. What do you say?”

Shaw hesitated but only briefly. “Why not? How about 7:00. I’ll meet you there.”

“Later Shaw.”

And he was gone. As he left, Shaw wondered why she’d agreed so fast and why she didn’t call him back and tell him she had a previous engagement. The more she thought about her agreeing to meet Tomas, the more conflicted she felt. She headed back to her apartment determined to stay home and figure out what the hell she was doing.

But at 6:30 she was locking the door and heading out to grab a taxi. She wore the same dress she’d worn the first time she’d met Tomas at the club, the black number that showed an interesting amount of cleavage and an almost obscene amount of leg. Truth be told, the dress would have been more appropriate on a pre-teen than a grown woman, unless that grown woman was looking for one thing, and one thing only.

Arriving precisely at 7:00 she found Tomas waiting for her at the bar. He surprised her by not directing them to a booth, preferring to sit knees touching as he came on to her. And he came on strong. His lines were just as good as they had been, and Shaw seemed determined to play along.

Finally, after several drinks, Tomas leaned in, placed his hand inside Shaw’s left thigh way too high to be misconstrued and whispered, “Want to get out of here?”

Shaw, still trying to sort out everything, decided to continue the game.

“Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

Root hailed a cab and headed to the address the Machine had given her. She arrived at the club and walked in the entrance, immediately spotting Shaw at the bar. And her fragile composure shattered in the few seconds she took in the scene. Clamping a steely control over her features she headed for the ladies room, entered a stall and spent several minutes composing herself.

 _Tomas- it was him, again._ Months ago, she thought she had overcome his influence on Shaw, he’d gone to Barcelona, and Shaw stayed behind with her and the team. Now it appeared that he was back and Shaw and him were, were… something. His hand was so far up her dress, he should have been a doctor and she was laughing and encouraging him- at least it appeared that way.

Deciding to head into the bar and face the issue head on, Root headed back out of the ladies’ room. As she approached the bar, their seats had emptied. Looking around she noticed Tomas closing the door of a cab and walking around to the other side. As he climbed in, Root saw Shaw sitting in the back. She turned toward Tomas, smiling, then looked back at the club.

Root spun around, hiding her face, but not before she thought Shaw might have seen her. Waiting until she was sure the cab was gone, she left the bar and wandered aimlessly through the New York evening, her humiliation complete.

….

Shaw walked out of the hotel feeling dirty. _You didn’t do anything wrong._ She hailed a cab and gave the driver Root’s address. She couldn’t get the feeling out of her mind that she’d seen Root as they were leaving the club, and that feeling spoiled the entire encounter with Tomas. At least that was what she thought.

Images swirled through her mind as she replayed the entire evening with him. Yes he was hot- no question about it. But there was something off the entire time, and the more she thought about it the more she realized what was wrong. It was Root- or more accurately, when she was in the club, in the cab and in the hotel, it _wasn’t_ Root.

Shaw couldn’t shake the feeling all night long that the wrong person was sitting next to her, riding in the cab with her, riding up in the elevator with her and slamming her into the wall of the hotel room. Hot as he was, she couldn’t get Root out of her mind. And now here she was, headed over to Root’s apartment with no idea what she was doing.

_Idiot! You always know what you’re doing. You always have a plan. So why are you going there? What’s the plan?_

As she closed the cab’s door and headed up the steps toward the entrance to Root’s building, she realized it was almost midnight. With no idea what she was getting in to, she rang Root’s bell. After the third ring went unanswered, she picked the lock and let herself into the building.

The door to Root’s apartment stayed shut, even though Shaw had knocked several times. She finally pulled out her phone and as she was about to call, she noticed the text Root had sent hours ago. Realizing how angry Root probably was at being ‘stood up’, Shaw almost turned to leave. Something turned her back to the door and she picked it expertly and entered.

She saw the table, still set for dinner, with the candles burned about halfway down before they were extinguished. She could still smell the faint odor of cooking, and in spite of herself she felt hungry. She called Root’s name, but received no answer, which she expected. She didn’t think Root was here but wanted to check to make sure.

The bedroom was empty but the light was still on in the bathroom. Entering it, Shaw could see that it looked like someone had been sick in there. There were traces of something on the edge of the toilet and the seat was up. Since there was no indication of a male visitor, Shaw concluded that something had made Root sick.

Her stomach churned with the thought that it could have been her. There were tissues stained black by what appeared to be mascara lying haphazardly by the sink. As Shaw looked around, she tried to recreate what had transpired.

Her conclusion was something upset Root so much she was physically ill, then cleaned herself up and left. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was responsible for this. Not knowing what to do she returned to the living room and paced for several minutes. She tried once more to call Root and when the call went unanswered she decided to give up and go home.

As she was closing the door, she had an idea. Reentering Root’s apartment, she went into her bedroom and walked to the nightstand by her bed. Picking up Root’s laptop, she determined that it was only in sleep mode, not off. Waking the computer, she looked into the webcam.

“I know you’re looking and listening. I need to know where she is.”

After a minute or so, she repeated her question and added, “Please.”

Nothing. Sighing, Shaw closed the laptop and headed for the apartment door. As she was closing the door behind her, her phone vibrated. It was an address texted from a blocked number.

Shaw didn’t recognize the address, but knew the area was filled with clubs, some of which catered to those with unsavory tastes in many different areas. Hailing another cab, Shaw gave the address to the driver and sat back, lost in thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Root was on her sixth or seventh gimlet. The pain that had driven her to the area had gradually gone from a searing grief to a dull ache as the alcohol gave some measure of relief from her agony. She knew she had to move on, but was having trouble remembering exactly what it was she was moving on from.

As she drained the gimlet and slammed the glass down hard enough to cause the others in her area to start, she noticed a tall, willowy blonde eyeing her. Recognizing the look, Root smirked and winked. The blonde approached and said, “I’m Stevie, what’s your name?”

“Root. But names aren’t what I’m interested in.” She leaned into the blonde’s space and leered.

Surprised at how forward Root was, the blonde recovered and asked, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Root, in a fog, wasn’t sure what she wanted. She finally tilted her head toward the ladies room.

“Why leave?”

The blonde, Stevie, looked surprised. “Right here? Right now?”

“No time like the present, sweetie.” As she said the words, something rang hollow, but she headed toward the ladies room. As they approached the door and entered, Root noticed all the stalls were occupied. She turned to the blonde (Stevie) and opened her mouth to suggest they actually should get out of there.

The words never left her mouth. The blonde’s (Stevie’s) lips crushed into hers with a fury. Taken by surprise, she hesitated, then returned the kiss with growing enthusiasm. As it continued, and the blonde (Stevie) began to run her hand down the back of Root’s jeans, she began to feel strange. It didn’t seem right. Before she could break the kiss, however, she heard a familiar voice pierce the alcoholic fog, and suddenly, the blonde (Stevie) was spinning away from her.

“Bitch! Keep your hands off her. Keep your face off her. I will end you.”

The blonde (Stevie) blanched at being thrown into the wall of the rest room. She looked into the tiny firecracker’s eyes and decided she’d better get the hell out of Dodge and left without a word. Root, still in a fog, blinked her eyes and squinted at _Shaw_?

“Shaw? What the hell?”

Shaw grabbed Root by the upper arms and looked into her eyes.

“Root, we need to talk.”

The sight of Shaw was like a bucket of cold water on Root. While still drunk, all the hurt and rage returned as if on steroids. She shook out of Shaw’s grasp and turned away.

“What the hell do we have to talk about?”

Shaw reached for Root’s wrist an spun her back toward her but Root viciously shook off her hand and looked into Shaw’s eyes angrily.

“Why don’t you go back to Tomas?”

“It was you at the club.”

“Who cares, Shaw, I finally got your message… loud and clear. I apologize for being so dense and not getting it a long time ago. I get it now. Go to Tomas, you two deserve each other.”

Root turned and walked out of the restroom leaving Shaw standing speechless.

By the time she walked out of the bathroom and returned to the bar, Root was nowhere to be found.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been two weeks since the night at the club. Shaw had neither seen nor heard from Root. Her calls and text messages had gone unanswered. The longer it went on the more the sensation that started in her stomach spread and grew. The more Shaw fought it, the more the word screamed in her mind.

_Feelings, Shaw, feelings. You had them and you didn’t like them. Then you screwed up the one thing that made them good. Now you’ve lost the only chance you had at living with the good feelings. But, congratulations, asshole, you’ve managed to end up with bad feelings in spades._

Her appearances at the subway were brief, only stopping to get information on the latest number, then grab what equipment was needed and leave. The one time she asked about Root, Finch only answered vaguely.

“She’s on a mission for the Machine.”

When Shaw pressed, Finch delivered devastating news.

“She specifically asked me not to tell you where she was going.”

….

Shaw’s phone rang at 9:15 three days later. “What do you want Finch?”

“We have a situation, Ms. Shaw. While I want to respect Ms. Groves’ wishes, I don’t want anything to happen to her that we would all regret. She’s in trouble and needs your help.”

“I thought she didn’t want you to let me know where she was.”

“That’s correct, however, she called ten minutes ago, asking for back up, specifically, Mr. Reese to come as back up. When I told her Mr. Reese was out of the state on a mission for the Machine, she said, ‘never mind’ and hung up.

“I’ve found where the call originated from, and it appears Ms. Groves has gotten herself in a situation where she desperately needs assistance. The warehouse she called from is currently surrounded by SWAT as a gun battle is ensuing inside. It’s a building one of the Mexican cartels has been using to store drugs, weapons and cash.

“They took an unnamed hostage in there an hour ago and are threatening to kill her if they aren’t given safe passage. They won’t get safe passage, and based on their history, they will kill Ms. Groves. Her pride may very well result in her being killed.”

Shaw’s stomach was tied in knots. _This is all my fault, she would have been with me if it wasn’t for my being such an ass._ She grabbed several weapons from her closet and headed down to the car she was currently using.

Fifteen minutes later, Shaw pulled her vehicle to the side of a nondescript building less than 100 yards from the warehouse. Loading everything into a duffle bag, Shaw walked over to where the SWAT team had cordoned off the area. One quick call to Finch and she was headed back to a manhole cover behind the sealed area.

Shaw slipped under the street and followed Finch’s directions until she came to a ladder. Climbing the ladder, Shaw encountered a steel grate that allowed her limited vision inside the warehouse. After seeing the coast was clear she raised the grate and slipped into the warehouse.

As she rounded a corner looking for Root, she encountered the first of the cartel’s members. He went down without a sound and Shaw zip-tied and gagged him, then headed in the direction he came. A wall toward the back of the building had a door toward one side. The door was slightly ajar and light spilled into the adjoining area.

Shaw carefully approached and as she got closer she could hear voices arguing in Spanish. While not fluent, Shaw understood they were arguing about whether their best option was to kill Root and fight their way out, or wait to see if the rest of their companions would get there and attempt an escape.

Shaw stuck her head around the wall and quickly assessed the situation. There were five of them, and the area was confined enough that she knew she could see them all. They were standing around Root, who was tied to a chair and looked unconscious.

Guessing she had taken out the only other perp, she raised her silenced Uzi and took out the five in less than ten seconds.

_No kneecaps today, Harold, I hope you understand._

Root’s head picked up at the sound and she looked around confused. She had been beaten, but didn’t appear to have any serious injuries. As Shaw approached, Root looked over at her rescuer and her expression went from curious to relieved to blank, all in seconds.

“Come on Root, let’s get you out of here. Are there any more?”

“One, he left a couple minutes ago.”

“He’s down, here’s the plan. There’s a grate in the floor at the other end of the warehouse, we’re going to go down and out that way, but I’m blowing this place up when we leave. I have enough C4 to ensure this place will be nothing but rubble.”

“There’s a package I have to get first, it’s out there too.”

“Is it that important?”

“It’s the reason I came.”

As they headed back toward their exit point, Root indicated a bundle of burlap lying near the far wall. Root reached it, opened it and slid a small child out, bound and gagged. She leaned into the child’s face and spoke briefly.

“We’re getting you out of here, but I can’t take a chance on you making any noise now. When we are out, I will take off the gag and untie you. Do you understand?”

The child’s eyes were bugging out of her head (Shaw finally determined it was a girl, maybe seven or eight years old), but she nodded and Root started to pick her up. Shaw stopped her, handed her the C4 and detonator and slung the child over her shoulders. Root reached behind the bag used to contain the child, grabbed a backpack and followed Shaw to their exit point.

The three slipped into the tunnel where Root made sure the girl was physically OK, removed the gag and bindings and they headed toward Shaw’s entry point. Once clear of the tunnel, Shaw checked that SWAT was still attempting to establish contact and not storming the place.

She then blew the building. The ensuing explosion touched off several smaller explosions as flammable items in the warehouse went up. As the inferno raged, the two women put the girl in the back seat of Shaw’s car and headed out without any words.

Root directed Shaw to the local precinct and had her pull behind the station. She pulled the child from the back seat, carried her to a car idling with one female officer in it, approached the driver’s side and set the child down. She spoke briefly to the officer, shook her head and returned to Shaw’s vehicle.

“Let’s go- now!”

Shaw pulled out of the station and the female officer decided to attend to the child rather than attempt to follow her rescuers. As Shaw headed for Root’s apartment, she looked at Root and asked, “Are you OK?”

“Didn’t know you cared, Shaw, pull over here.” Shaw shook her head no and continued toward Root’s apartment.

“You’re hurt and need medical attention. And we need to talk.”

Shaw slowed at a red light to turn right. As she stopped Root opened the passenger door and hopped out. She reached through the back window for the backpack, grabbed it and turned away. She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away.

“No thanks.”

Shaw jammed the car in park and hopped out. Chasing Root down, she grabbed her left arm and spun her around. Root’s eyes flashed anger and she shook off Shaw’s hand. Turning away again, she said,

“Leave me alone.”

Shaw shrugged and removed something from her hoodie.

“What goes around, comes around.”

She tased Root.


	6. Chapter 6

Root’s movements returned as Shaw was carrying her up the stairs to her apartment but she was still too weak to resist. Once inside, Root was zip-tied to one of her dining room chairs. Shaw went into the bathroom, returning with a wash cloth. She gently cleaned Root’s face and checked her for any serious injuries.

Once she was convinced Root’s injuries were superficial, she put the wash cloth back and returned. She looked at Root and took a deep breath. Root wouldn’t even raise her head to look her in the eye. Shaw pushed ahead anyway.

“So here’s the deal. I’m going to talk to you for a few minutes, then when I’m done I will cut the zip-ties and leave. I won’t bother you anymore, but before that you’re going to hear _everything_ that happened two weeks ago and why it happened.”

Shaw took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and began.

“You’re like an itch you can’t scratch, you ignore me if I tell you to leave me alone, I can’t insult you enough to make you go away and you’ve gotten under my skin to the point it could be detrimental to the team.

"I don't know what to do with the feelings that have been building inside me since I met you. I've lost sleep at night, been distracted in the field and watched way too many images of you dance across my imagination. I thought if you just went away it would stop and I could go on like before.

“Unfortunately, for me, there is no longer a ‘like before’. You managed to get so far inside my head that I can’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard I try. This was what caused that night.”

Root’s face darkened and she interrupted.

“So that’s what we’re calling it, huh? _That night?_ How about betrayal. You know, I probably could have dealt with the hurt if you’d been honest that you had a date with _him_ , Shaw. But to act like it was just too much effort to acknowledge the day, then to meet him, leave with him, and sleep with him? That’s way too much.

“Although I have to give you credit- if you were looking for a way to sever any ties, you picked a perfect situation. As I said that night, message delivered.”

Shaw bent over Root and scowled at her. She tried to speak but all that came out was a groan as she shook her head.

“Damnit Root! That’s not what happened. You’re going to hear what _really_ happened before I cut these ties. And then it’s up to you what you believe and what you do- although I can’t blame you for walking away when I’ve given you absolutely no reason to stay.”

Before Root could respond, Shaw plowed on.

“I ran into Tomas totally by accident. I was in the park and couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being followed. I made him following me, we talked and he asked me to meet him at the club you saw us at.

“I agreed to go because I had just spent the last hour trying to figure out how to deal with all these _feelings_ you were causing to grow inside me. I didn’t like them and wanted to get rid of them. Using Tomas seemed the perfect solution. I could prove to myself being with someone other than you was just as good, just as satisfying as being with you was.

“So I met him. Hell Root, he’s hot, he’s charming and he was coming on to me like a dog in heat. Every second I was with him was like I was two people: one enjoying the flirtation, the dance, the potential conquest, the other…”

Shaw paused and considered whether to share the rest or try to salvage both her pride and Root’s feelings, then in a moment of clarity decided- _All in. She’s getting the whole truth and damn the consequences._

“He asked if I wanted to get out of there and I said ‘let’s go’. I had every intention of going wherever he took me and doing anything and everything. The goal was to get _you_ out of my mind permanently. Unfortunately, exactly the opposite happened.

“During the ride to his hotel room, I found myself wondering what it would be like if you were with me in the cab instead of him. In the elevator on our way up I found myself wondering what it would be like if you were beside me instead of him.

“As we entered his room, he slammed me against the wall and started kissing me, and I wondered what it would be like if you slammed me against a wall and kissed me. Then my dress was on the floor and I wondered what it would be like if it was you who had just pulled it down.

“Then I looked into his eyes…” Shaw’s eyes began to tear up at this. She cleared her throat and continued. “Then I looked into his eyes and what I saw stopped me cold. His eyes held nothing but victory and conquest. And I remembered.

“I remembered the look of affection and I don’t know, concern for me whenever we were together. I don’t have the right to call those looks _love_ because of what I’ve done to you, but in my imagination, that’s the look I’ll always want to see when I’m with someone. And of course I blew any chance of having it ever again with you. I see that now.

“Anyway, I pushed him away and when he became aggressive I put a knife at his throat. I got dressed and took a cab to your apartment. I was devastated by what I saw there because the evidence of how much I hurt you screamed from the dining room to the bathroom.

“I tried calling you a couple times and when I didn’t get an answer, I was ready to give up and go home. Then I remembered your friend. I opened your laptop and begged it to tell me where you had gone. It texted me an address, and you know the rest. I looked for you in that bar, found you and made a bigger ass of myself than I thought possible.

“I’ve spent the last couple weeks wondering how it all went wrong. How I could let the only chance for happiness slip through…. no, that’s bull. How I could throw away the only chance I’ll ever have at happiness because I was so full of myself and full of pride- oh let’s face it- full of shit. I convinced myself I had this disorder so I could never be hurt by allowing myself to be honest about my feelings.

“And my having them was obvious- at least to me looking back. I always could do anger and I let myself care about Bear and the members of our team. You can’t just compartmentalize feelings- you either have them or you don’t. And as far as you were concerned _I had them in spades._

“The problem was I thought I could set them aside at my convenience instead of dealing with them and admitting them to myself and, most importantly, to you. That I’ll regret this for the rest of my life is my problem. That I hurt you so deeply is something I’ll never be able to get over. I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know how sorry I am for what I did.

“I will regret the way I treated you, not just that night, but the many times I acted like that, for the rest of my life. I let my one true love slip through my fingers- all because I was an idiot.”

Shaw wiped her eyes, which had been leaking tears off and on for the last few minutes. She reached into her jeans, withdrew her knife and sliced the zip-ties that held Root tethered to the chair. She turned and headed for the door, stopping at it it briefly. Without turning she said,

“I know it’s too late, but I want you to know that I _finally_ realize that I love you and I think I’ve loved you for quite a while. I’m sorry again for what I did, not just that night, but so often over the past year.”

Shaw opened the door and stepped toward the hall. As she reached back to close the door, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back inside, turning her toward the apartment. Startled, she looked into Root’s face and saw the tears running down her cheeks while her eyes were wide with wonder, and a hint of the affection Shaw had described.

“Oh no, you think you’re getting out of here after that? No way. It’s my turn now.”

And Root slammed Shaw up against the wall and kissed her, violently and passionately. The kiss seemed to go on for hours, when in reality it was only a minute or so. As they broke apart and came up for air, Root continued.

“How about I forgive you and you spend the rest of our lives making it up to me?” She smirked at Shaw.

Shaw smiled in wonder.

“I can live with that.”


End file.
